


Something Good and Beautiful

by no_big_deal



Category: Anne of Green Gables - L. M. Montgomery, Logan Lucky (2017), Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Accidents, Alcohol, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Breeding Kink, Child Marriage, Cigarettes, Condoms, Crossover, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Happy Ending, Masturbation, Mention of gun violence, Misunderstandings, Mutual Pining, No Babies, No Pregnancy, Oral Sex, Penis In Vagina Sex, Pining, Smoking, Triggers, Wet & Messy, Wet Dream, mention of death by illness, mention of opioid medication, mention of suicide by hanging, mention of the death of a child, mention of white power groups, the author makes some meta commentary
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-01
Updated: 2021-03-08
Packaged: 2021-03-17 19:00:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 17,224
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29721759
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/no_big_deal/pseuds/no_big_deal
Summary: Clyde Logan falls for a beautiful young woman with a tragic past who is--unfortunately--married.Just his luck.For @meedawrites part of the #clydelovesbooks exchange!
Relationships: Clyde Logan/Rey (Star Wars)
Comments: 111
Kudos: 56
Collections: Clyde Loves Books Fic Exchange





	1. Clyde is Surprised

**Author's Note:**

  * For [meeda](https://archiveofourown.org/users/meeda/gifts).



> Hello! Thank you for taking the time to read Something Good & Beautiful my first ReyLogan fic! It is inspired by the world of Anne of Green Gables and many of the plot beats and scenes are heavily influenced by one of the later books in the Anne series, [Anne's House of Dreams.](https://www.gutenberg.org/files/544/544-h/544-h.htm)
> 
> _House of Dreams_ is a book about Anne & Gilbert (spoiler alert!) getting married and starting their own life together in a small coastal town on Prince Edward Island. However, it is not an easy road. If the book were tagged, it would have many of the same tags of this fic as well as for pregnancy and childbirth. For those of you who have read _House of Dreams_ you will recognize the Rey/Clyde love story mirroring the growing friendship between Anne and her new neighbor Leslie Moore, as well as the romance between the tragic Leslie and the handsome visiting author, Owen Ford. That is, until we get to the bit with the kissing and cunnilingus (Lucy Maud Montgomery was, sadly, not inclined to write sexually explicit romance).
> 
> Thanks to [Meeda](https://archiveofourown.org/users/meeda/pseuds/meeda/works) for the wonderful prompt, [Lala](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AteLala/works) for organizing [the exchange](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/ClydeLovesBooks), and [Kore](https://archiveofourown.org/users/KoreRosemarinus/pseuds/KoreRosemarinus) for the beta! 
> 
> This fic will have a number of relatively short chapters and will be updated regularly and quickly. Enjoy!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Walking through his hometown of Madison, West Virginia, Clyde Logan meets a pretty girl named Rey.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is rated T - no warnings except for some extremely fluffy Uncle Clyde business.

_**THURSDAY MORNING** _

Rounding the corner on to Main Street, Clyde gave a small smile seeing Sadie skip up the sidewalk ahead of him. His cute little niece had wheedled permission from Bobbi Jo to spend a couple weeks visiting family back in Madison, and Jimmy’d driven her up from Lynchburg, happy for a reason to visit West Virginia. So that afternoon, Clyde and Mellie took her to the park. The girls had run on ahead as Clyde ambled up the sidewalk, passing the small businesses and shops of his familiar hometown. As always, he didn’t see a thing out of place, until he passed the large arched windows of Little’s Café and Coffeeshop.

_Now who is this beautiful creature?_

Clyde saw a young woman sitting in the window seat of the coffee shop. She’d been reading a paperback with a cover Clyde vaguely recognized, but couldn’t quite place. She wasn’t actively reading; instead, she gazed out the window, with a bland, stern look in her cool, green eyes as she watched Mellie goofing around with Sadie. Clyde was confused; the woman looked almost _prickly,_ but for no good reason, so far as he could tell. 

It was doubly strange, because even with a cheerless look on her face, the green-eyed girl was pretty as a picture. More than pretty, really. She was so damn beautiful, his mouth nearly fell open when he set his eyes on her. Long, wavy hair styled big; it reminded him of the Farah Fawcett poster Jimmy had in his bedroom back in high school. This girl wasn’t blonde though, her hair was a shimmery brown, not quite as dark as the bark of the walnut trees outside the Duck Tape, and touched with streaks of warmth like gingerbread. Now, Clyde didn’t consider himself the type to gawk at women. Even so, his fingers itched to run through her curls, and he shook his head in surprise at his reaction, wiping his hand on his jeans and stuffing it in his pocket.

“Hey, Clyde,” Mellie yelled back from up the block, snapping his attention back to the real world. “Get over here!” 

He jogged to catch up; together, the three of them crossed the street to the small corner park. Clyde pushed Sadie on the swing higher than her parents would’ve liked, but Mellie said aunties and uncles were for what parents couldn’t let you get away with, so Clyde let Sadie swing to her heart’s content.

The pretty lady from the coffee shop was watching. Clyde couldn’t get her unhappy eyes out of his mind for more than a minute at a time. What did someone so young and pretty have to be so sad about? Surely she didn’t have a family curse, like the Logans? It’d be too bad if she did. He pushed Sadie higher and she squealed in delight, snapping Clyde out of his somber thoughts.

Jumping out of the swing, Sadie ran and grabbed Clyde’s hand, dragging him over to the slide—an old metal contraption that burned your legs in the summer—and pushed him up the ladder. Clyde, unable to deny his sweet niece anything, barely squeezed his hips between the rails, and ended up sliding down somewhat sideways, but he laughed, and the look on Sadie’s face was worth it as she slid down herself, giggling into his waiting arms. When she tired of the slide, she hopped on the spinner, and after getting it up to top speed, he jumped on board with her; the world became a blur of brown and green. 

Brown and green; the coloring of the gorgeous, serious-looking woman in the coffee shop. 

“Clyde,” Mellie called, joining him and Sadie on the spinner as it slowed to a crawl. “How about you run across the street and get us some Italian sodas?”

“Yeah!” Sadie scrambled across the spinner, her pigtails flying as she half-somersaulted into him. “Will you, Uncle Clyde? Strawberry’s my _favorite.”_

Clyde nodded in agreement. “Anything for my girls,” he said, ruffling Sadie’s hair as he stood, ignoring Mellie’s nagging about messing up the child’s hairstyle. 

As Clyde dashed across the street, his attention was immediately drawn to the fact that the green-eyed girl had left the coffee shop and was standing to the side of a car, parked at an angle. She was still a ways off, but it seemed as if she was looking straight at his face with a strange expression. She looked curious, sad, and yet—envious? To his eyes, she was even prettier than before. She wore a simple jean skirt and a cream white top, cut a little away at the neck, with short sleeves, perfect for summer. So sweet it was like she’d stepped out of a dream. 

Soon, he was close enough that only her car was between them. He wondered if she’d noticed his arm already, or if she’d been looking at something else. He didn’t care what people thought, he really didn’t. But it still hurt a bit to see those initial pangs of pity or disgust flash over people’s faces. For some reason, he really hoped this girl wouldn’t get squeamish at the sight of him. 

Something startled her though, and she quickly made to stick her keys in her door, her head bowed down low to unlock the vehicle as Clyde approached. 

“Good afternoon,” he greeted her. She was obviously new in town, since he knew pretty much everybody, and didn’t know her. So this was just being neighborly. 

“Hi,” she replied, her voice sweet and shy, but still a little sad. She raised her eyes to his just for a second before pulling her driver’s door open. She looked back across the street, awkwardness twisting her sweet features, scrunching her nose adorably. “Looks like you were having fun over there.” She sounded a little dismissive as she shrugged a shoulder towards the park, where Mellie and Sadie lay on the spinner, rotating slowly around.

“Oh,” Clyde blushed, feeling a little self-conscious. “Yeah, we’re just goofing around—you probably think we’re crazy, fooling around on old playground equipment like that-”

“No,” said the girl, all too abruptly. “I don’t.”

She didn’t seem inclined to say anything else, but she didn’t get in her car, either. Her body language indicated annoyance, real stand-offish, but her eyes pleaded with him to stay. Those magical green eyes—that he couldn’t seem to tear himself away from—were the only thing that kept him from walking. 

“Let’s—let me introduce myself,” said Clyde, trying to smile and remember his manners at the same time. “I’m Clyde Logan.”

She nodded slowly in response, a matching attempt at a smile gracing her lips. “I’m Rey Abrams.” Her voice was very stiff. 

“Well, welcome, Ms. Abrams,” Clyde said, wondering how much longer he could talk to this girl before Mellie and Sadie started hollerin’ for their Italian sodas. “Hope you like it here in Madison.”

“It’s lovely,” she said slowly, like polite responses took effort. “I often dreamed of visiting such a charming place.” A pretty blush spread across her cheeks. “It’s very green,” she amended. 

Courage bubbled up his chest; he made a noise indicating his agreement, and stuck his neck out. “I tend bar most nights at a place called the Duck Tape, just up the highway a bit.” He gestured with his thumb behind him, over his shoulder, feeling his t-shirt stretch across his chest. “If you get the chance, you should come by—first drink’s on the house.” 

Her face went through a series of emotions, each only resting on her delicate features for a moment before moving on to make way for the next. At first, Clyde was certain she was so disgusted, she’d turn down the offer. Then a pang of reluctance, followed by a restrained sort of eagerness.

“I should—that is—thank you.” She made no promises, and seemed not to know what to say beyond that. 

Clyde nodded. “Have a good afternoon, Ms. Abrams.”

“Thank you, Clyde—Mr. Logan—see you around, I guess,” she said, hopping in her car and pulling away. 

It wasn’t until she was down the road, turning the corner, that Clyde noticed the book lying on the ground. It was the book she’d been reading in the coffee shop; she must have dropped it. He recognized the cover now. It was the Monroe County Library’s paperback version of _Anne of Green Gables._ He’d checked it out many times himself, and he bent down to pick it up off the pavement. He’d have to find a way to return it to her. Excitement zinged through his chest—there’d be a chance he’d see her again. Maybe talk to her again. The most beautiful woman he’d ever seen.

_Rey._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just really love these two sweethearts, don't you? My favorite part of this chapter is when Clyde plays on some playground equipment, I had a lot of fun visualizing it.


	2. At the Duck Tape

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After his evening shift at the Duck Tape, Clyde learns about Ms. Rey's past from Earl.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If the triggers of the "mentions of" in the tags list are concerning for you there will be a summary in the end notes! Be safe! 
> 
> And everyone say thank you to [duelingaxis](https://twitter.com/duelingaxis) for stopping me from making this chapter even sadder. Yes, you heard that correctly. I wrote something too sad for _Axis._ Yes. [This Axis.](https://twitter.com/duelingaxis/status/1361735744486793220)
> 
> That being said, the flow of this chapter, and the litany of sad things we learn Rey has experienced in her life are right out of Leslie's story in _House of Dreams._ It's the book about Anne's first adult friendships and experiences and LMM pulled no punches with her readers. Life is hard and many times unfair to people who don't deserve it.

Clyde’s shift ended before the Duck Tape closed that night. Right at nine, he wiped down the drinks station he favored and stepped out from behind the bar. Knowing Earl was sitting out on the porch, chain smoking the evening away, Clyde reckoned he’d join him out there for a spell prior to driving home to his cabin out by the river. 

The night was sultry, and the damp air made Clyde's t-shirt cling to his chest almost the second he stepped outside into the quiet night. Over the Duck Tape’s porch, the stars twinkled and the wind worried the treetops. 

He stretched, taking a deep breath before asking, “What’s new, Earl?” 

Earl had just lit a cigarette and gestured for Clyde to join him, pointing to a rocking chair on the other side of a small side table that held Earl’s drink and lighter. “Just killing a little time. My gal has a distant cousin visiting. Want to make sure the ladies have their opportunity to socialize before I get on back home.”

Clyde nodded as he sat in one of the chairs on the porch. Earl and Ashley, _‘his gal’_ as Earl called her, hadn’t been together particularly long—she was quite a bit younger than Earl, if Clyde recalled—but they were thick as thieves and unshakable partners with a depth of affection for each other that Clyde envied. 

“Yep,” said Earl, stretching out the word. “My gal’s been looking forward to this visit for awhile now. Her second cousin down from Brooke County by name of Rey Abrams—” Clyde sat up straighter in his chair, and Earl took note of Clyde's sudden interest. “She been in here to the Duck Tape yet?”

“No,” Clyde said, sitting back, feeling like he could jump out of his skin it was so tingly, all over. _Rey_ again. “I met her in town this morning. Mellie and me took Sadie to the park, and she was coming out of the coffee shop.” Earl was looking pointedly at him, so he added, “We made an acquaintance.”

“What did you think of her?”

Clyde rolled his lips between his teeth. He’d thought she was beautiful, but he couldn’t go telling Earl that. “A little shy, maybe. Only to be expected, being new in town.”

Earl chuckled. “You’re a kind man. She was likely none too friendly, but you’re too much of a gentleman to say so. But she’s got a right to be unfriendly, more than anyone I’ve ever met.”

His heart did a little skip, thinking about their conversation. She hadn’t been unfriendly, exactly. Well, not completely at least. “How do you mean?” 

Earl shook his head. “You Logans and your curse got nothing on Rey Abrams.”

Clyde was curious, but didn’t want to show it. “Really now. What can you tell me? Unless what you know is in confidence.” 

Earl shrugged. “I never met her before this week, but I knew her story. Well.” He gave a sad chuckle. “Everyone from Brooke County up north, where I’m originally from, knows her story. I’d heard tales. But my gal’s about her age, and grew up with her in Abramsburg so I know the specifics.”

“So what’s her story?” he asked. 

Earl took a long, hissing drag on his cigarette. “You sure you want to know? Not a happy tale, not by any means.”

Clyde settled in on the chair opposite the ashtray. “I’m sure.” 

“Okay,” replied Earl, stretching out the word. “But don't say I didn’t warn ya.” 

He took a sip of his drink. 

“Rey’s father was Frank Niima: my gal’s momma’s cousin. He’d worked a mine up in Brooke County for the boss up there, a man by the name of John Abrams, who’d recently inherited the mine. Frank had brains _and_ charm; he married Ellie May Sanders, the prettiest girl in town. She was a beauty alright—auburn hair and emerald green eyes, like from a movie —but she was a brainless and silly woman. Well, they were happy enough. Frank and Ellie May had two children—Rey and Kenny. So my gal says Rey got her mother’s looks and her father’s brains, and a strong disposition, which neither of them had. Good thing too, cause it turns out she’d need it.”

Clyde stretched his legs out onto the porch rail as the crickets punctuated the silence between Earl’s words.

“Rey was fourteen years old when the first dreadful thing happened. She doted on little Kenny—he was five years younger than her, and a real sweet kid. And he was killed one day. John Abrams didn’t follow the safety regulations on his mines like he should. There was an open chute down into the ravine that weren’t closed up properly. Kenny fell down into an abandoned quarry, hit some rocks on the way down, and was dead on impact,” Earl continued, grimacing at the thought. “Just crushed the life right out of him. And Rey saw the whole thing.”

Clyde gave a shudder as Earl continued. “Rey gave a scream—my gal said she’d never forget it—and she ran to the quarry and slid down to him.” He released a shuddering breath. “My gal still cries telling the story. Says Rey held her brother’s little bleeding body, still warm and—” Earl cleared his throat, his voice wavering. “She wouldn’t let him go. They had to tear her away Clyde. Barely fourteen and having to see that, I can’t imagine.” 

Clyde swallowed thickly. He’d been about that age that night Jimmy got hurt. Everything had been so _much._ The field was almost too green to look at. The bright stadium lights, so blazing Clyde’s eyes had watered. Jimmy’d groaned through his teeth as the EMTs helped him to the ambulance; it was the worst noise he’d ever heard. It was the most scared he’d been, until Iraq. But he’d lived, and so had Jimmy. 

The poor girl. 

“Well,” Earl resumed. “They buried little Kenny in the cemetery at up in Abramsburg, and Rey went back to school. But Frank began to go down after Kenny’s death. All them years of workin’ in the mines, he wasn’t strong like he used to be, and losin’ his son like that was a real shock.”

Clyde suddenly wished he’d brought a drink out with him as Earl shifted in his seat, taking another long suck of smoke.

“But you know how them small coal mining towns are, Clyde. Run by a big boss man, with everyone under his thumb? Frank went and asked Abrams for compensation for the loss of his boy due to the mine not being closed up safe, and from what they say, Abrams laughed in his face. Frank Niima’d worked for the Abrams mine for well nigh on twenty of his thirty-five years, but that didn’t matter. The big boss man had the mine safety folks, the local paper, hell, even the governor’s office in his pocket. Nothing Frank could do.”

Shoulders slumped, Clyde rubbed at his forehead, feeling a sense of dread. “Nothing good came from speaking up, I suppose.”

Earl nodded. “Right you are. The boss man fired Frank for his back talk. And no one else in town would give him any work. He managed a few odd jobs here and there, but he was going to lose his house once the money ran out.”

Clyde thought back to how brittle Jimmy’d been when Bobbi Jo said she was taking Sadie out of state. Jimmy would have done anything for his little girl; Frank Niima probably felt the same way about Rey. 

“It’s hard on a man, being short on money.” 

Earl nodded slowly. “And it was on Frank. Real hard on him. Wore him down for a couple years, until he took his own life. Yessir, when Rey was sixteen, he hanged himself—right in the living room.” Earl’s calm voice had taken on an edge. “And of course, Rey had to be the one to find him. Comes home from the first day of her junior year of high school, and there he was, face bloodless and slack. Poor kid. Must’ve been awful.” 

“Yeah.” Clyde couldn’t get his mouth to close proper, his throat dry as dust. “Must have.” 

“Well, Rey and her momma were left on their own. But Ellie May never had a paying job. She’d been a housewife, and you know there were no savings to fall back on. But Frank had taken out a policy. Figured he was worth more dead than alive.” 

Clyde huffed out a breath. Ending his life for the insurance money— that was some heartbreaking shit. Wasn’t no amount of money worth a human life.

“Well Ellie May whooped and hollered and sobbed up a storm at Frank’s funeral. Everyone in town was there—Frank was well liked, even if he had been on Boss Abrams’ bad side—and Ellie May used the insurance money to put up a great big monument to him, bigger than she could afford, when you consider her home had a double mortgage.”

Clyde nodded; grief didn’t make a lick of sense. But he wouldn’t discredit a widow for crying at her husband’s funeral. Earl’s negative attitude towards Ellie May was a mite confusing. Clyde didn't like it.

“My gal says it was at Frank’s funeral when Boss Abrams saw Rey for the first time. An’ you know the type. A disingenuous, controlling sonofabitch. Could be right pleasant when things went his way, but he was into nasty politics, drank too much, and folks would tell stories about the rough treatment of the girls at the dance clubs in the area. He wasn’t fit for Rey to wipe her boots on. But he took a hankerin’ to her—almost mad about her—and—” 

Clyde shot up in his seat. _“Earl. You said she was sixteen.”_

Earl kept talking. “She’d got her momma’s good looks and wouldn’t give Boss Abrams the time of day. But he vowed he’d have her— and he got her, too.”

Clyde felt ill. “How?”

“Shady no-good dealings, of course. Abrams ran the town bank, the one that held the mortgage to the Niimas’ house. It was all sorts of overdue and Abrams went and told Ellie May that if Rey wouldn’t marry him, he’d foreclose. And that shiftless Ellie May wept and carried on, begging Rey not to let her be turned out of her home, not to break her heart like that. And Rey gave in. Because she loved her mama, and wanted to save her the pain. They got married—”

“But _sixteen,”_ Clyde’s stomach was turning. “And him, a grown man.” 

“Old enough to be her father,” Earl agreed, spitting. “But you can marry at sixteen with your mama’s permission—and Ellie May nagged Rey until she married John Abrams. Practically sold her daughter to keep her house.” Earl cleared his throat, waiting for a moment as Clyde glared into the darkness of the Duck Tape parking lot. “Of course, there was no big wedding. My gal said she was one of the few folks there. Ellie May was chipper as a lark at sunrise while Rey was as somber as she’d ever been.”

That didn’t surprise Clyde. How could a girl like that be happy on the day she was marrying the man responsible for both her brother and her father being dead? Clyde released a breath. At least Earl had to be done with the story now. Life couldn’t possibly have been any crueler to Ms. Rey. 

After a few minutes, Earl went on. “Abrams settled Rey in his big house on the hill overlooking town. Rey kept going to school, though it’s a wonder Abrams let her out of the house. If Rey’d had any sense, she’d have run away, but she was a good girl. She never did. Even when, a year later, Ellie May got pneumonia and died—can you believe it? Barely a year past Rey’s first wedding anniversary. Rey was heartbroken—again—though it’s more than her mother deserved, if you ask me. Well, that left Rey alone with her husband, no other near family. Her closest living relation being my gal, her second cousin.”

“No one left to protect her and she’s married to the most powerful man in town.” Clyde held out a hand to Earl, who patted his front pocket, pulled out a battered pack of cigarettes, and handed one to Clyde. The lighter quickly followed and Clyde took a drag. “Don’t suppose their marriage was much to speak of.”

Earl snorted. “Course not. Abrams didn’t settle down just ‘cause he married. He carried on as much as ever. One day, after he and Rey had been married almost three years, he went down to Charlottesville for a meeting—some white power nonsense. He ended up staying down in Virginia for _months.”_

Clyde huffed out a laugh, watching the end of his cigarette burn. “That must have been a relief to Rey.”

Earl shrugged. “Hard to say. My gal says once she married she kept everyone at a distance. Proud but cold. And my gal hates John Abrams with a passion, even after what happened to him.”

“Oh?” Clyde perked up, tapping off the ash of his cigarette. “What happened to him?”

“Well Abrams had left Rey all alone while he was carrying on. The summer went by and he didn’t come back. Folks looked to investigate, and there was talk of a cover-up, but no one knew much for sure. Some said he was dead, but Rey never believed he’d died, and she was right, more’s the pity.” 

The jolt of hope Clyde felt fizzled away. 

“Turns out, he was in a hospital in northern Virginia. His damn group of knuckleheads had met up one day at a gun range. A scuffle started up; over what, no one seemed to remember. Abrams was in the thick of it and got himself shot. He’d been in a coma. Woke up eventually, though.”

If it were possible, Clyde frowned a little more.

“He lost most of his memory and his intellect too, though he never had much to start with. He can only say a few words, can’t care for himself. So Rey moved him back home and hired nurses—finally able to use Abrams’ money—” 

“Her money now, I reckon,” Clyde interjected. 

Earl nodded slowly. “You’re right there. So her husband had no more understanding than a child. In need of care twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week.” Earl stubbed out his cigarette and clapped his hands on his knees. “So that’s Rey’s life, since she was a teenager. Caring for Abrams for well over, oh, the last seven years, and all alone except for the nurses that stop in to help. From what my gal says, Rey’s never been away from Brooke County, until this trip down here to visit.” 

Clyde didn’t even know what to say to that. His own life, even with the curse, seemed laughably comfortable compared to what Rey’d been through. Poor woman. It wasn’t fair how some people had so much happiness when others had so much misery. Rey’s severe looks and off-putting manner now seemed to make a great deal more sense. 

“She needs friends, my gal says.” Earl’s voice held more than a hint of encouragement.

Clyde huffed. There’s no reason why a pretty lady—a _married_ lady—who’d known enough suffering for ten lifetimes would want to be his friend. And yet, as he dropped his cigarette butt in the ashtray, he heard himself agreeing with Earl. 

“I’ll be her friend, if she’ll let me.”

And he remembered the library book, now safe in his truck, tucked between the dashboard and windshield. 

“Earl?” Clyde asked. “Where’s Ms. Rey stayin’, while she’s in town?”

* * *

He often dreamed of the desert, but tonight, he dreamed of the sea. 

There was a whirling ocean, bubbling and turbulent and he stood on the shore, watching and waiting. Up from the foam, a woman materialized, wearing a dark purple robe, the color of the sea she left behind. Sparkling dark jewels dotted her long, wet hair. She beckoned to him, a siren calling, crooking her finger in his direction, whispering words he couldn’t understand. 

_A goddess._ He was helpless to resist. His heart beat madly as she neared, and he fell to his knees as if in reverent worship. She touched his hair and her robe parted, sliding down her shoulders. Nearly naked, she was a vision; hands on his knees, he leaned to lick at her cunt—and woke up.

He’d rolled to his left side in his sleep—trapped his arm between his ribs and the mattress—and it was prickling painfully, starved of blood. His right hand was on his cock and he had a split second to roll to his back before he came, _hard,_ covering his t-shirt in a puddle of cum.

He bit his lip to keep from calling Rey’s name. She’d been there, in his dream, but he _couldn’t._

Momma’d be so disappointed to know her baby boy was coveting another man’s wife. 

And he couldn’t disappoint his momma. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Summary: Clyde learns from Earl, who's dating Rey's second cousin, that when Rey was 14 she saw her brother die in a fall and at age 16 found her father's body after he committed suicide. When she was 16, the man who ran her coal company town wanted to marry her, and manipulated Rey's mother into agreeing to let 16 year old Rey marry him. Rey's mother dies the next year and shortly thereafter, Rey's husband, John Abrams, is injured in an accidental shooting that leaves him in a semi-conscious state. Rey has cared for her invalid husband for the last six or seven years. Clyde is overwhelmed by the scope of Rey's problems, but still agrees to reach out in friendship to her, at Earl's request. That night, he dreams of Rey in a very sexy way and fights the attraction, since she is married.
> 
> OK, SO, smoking is bad for you, not cool at all but boy oh boy would I be lying if I said the vision of Clyde stress-smoking while listening to Earl's story didn't make me all swoony and tingly.


	3. Clyde Comes Over

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clyde returns Rey's book and--after an initial misstep--they bond over a shared love of reading.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is *so* short I will most definitely post another by the end of the day. I am just now (ridiculously) committed to giving each day of Rey & Clyde's relationship their own chapter. You are all so kind I know you will humor me!

The next morning, Clyde knocked on the door of Bungalow 2B at the Madison Extended Stay motel just outside town. Earl hadn’t thought twice about giving out Rey’s address, and Clyde probably shouldn’t have given in to the impulse to ask for it. After hearing all Earl’d had to say, he should have refrained. Poor woman didn’t need him bothering her. 

And pretty as she was, as much as he’d like to see her smile, it wasn’t his privilege to enjoy any of those things. She was still a married woman, after all. He pushed the memory of his dream, of her naked body sparkling with salt water, out of his mind.

The door opened just an inch and then very slowly, until about half of her face was visible. He swallowed thickly, feeling his breath hitch and speed up. His dreams hadn’t exaggerated her goddess-like beauty any. Her hair was up in buns on the back of her head, giving her eyes a mysterious little tilt that captivated him. 

After a moment of silence, he pushed himself to speak. “Good morning, ma’am,” Clyde began, wincing slightly. He didn’t like calling her that, but she  _ was _ a married lady, and—for a thousand reasons—was deserving of his respect. 

“Good morning, Mr. Logan,” her voice was stern as he remembered. The door was still barely open; he could see the small security chain in place. 

“I have your book here,” he held it up. “You dropped it yesterday.” She seemed to freeze up for a minute, and Clyde continued on, hurriedly. “I got your address from Earl—your cousin Ashley’s—” He paused, searching for the right word. He must have looked silly as he stopped to think; when Rey let out a reluctant little laugh, it distracted him. He looked at her, a smile spreading across his face, happy to see her amused, even if at his expense. “I guess I don’t rightly know what they are to each other.”

“He’s her  _ man,”  _ Rey said, her voice slightly wistful and envious. 

“Her  _ man  _ then,” he replied agreeably, still too overwhelmed by her smile to think of anything else. “Well, here you are.” he extended the book towards the door. “Didja enjoy it? I sure do.”

Her eyebrow quirked and she didn’t reach out or take the book. “Oh, you’ve read it?” She sounded doubtful. Awkwardly, Clyde lowered his hand, the paperback curling under his fingers. Her skepticism was clear—she didn’t think he had read  _ Anne. _

Clyde nodded, holding the tiny book tighter. “Sure have.”

“What exactly do you like about it then?” she asked, a clear challenge that he was more than willing to meet.

“Anne’s optimism is … inspiring.” He swallowed, thinking of the last time he’d read the book—right before he’d finished his last bout of physical therapy. “Even when things aren’t going your way, it’s important to stay hopeful.” He paused, considering if he wanted to make the next admission; he did, though he was looking at the toes of Rey’s socks when he said it. “I tend to fixate on the negative.” He dredged up the phrase from his mandated post-discharge counseling session. “But dwelling on problems don’t fix ‘em. Anne helped me realize that.”

He chanced a look into her face. Rey’s eyebrows were high on her forehead. She apparently hadn’t expected to hear  _ anything  _ like what he’d just said. He supposed not many dumb hicks had read, much less enjoyed,  _ Anne of Green Gables, _ but he had.

Still, she shook her head scornfully. “Mr. Logan, I doubt you’ve had many things  _ not _ go your way. Hope in the face of true suffering isn’t as easy when—” 

She cut off as, surprised by her aggressive derision, Clyde took a step back. An inquisitive shadow covered Rey’s face and he realized she  _ hadn’t _ noticed his left arm yesterday, in the street. She was seeing it now. For the first time. 

Abruptly, the door shut in his face, leaving Clyde blinking at the rusting screws in the metal “2B” that designated Rey’s bungalow. Before he’d even processed his thoughts, or made his mind up on what best to do with the book, he heard the chain sliding through the channel on the door lock, and the knob was turning again. He hardly knew what to think. He should be upset with her, but he felt an unexpected thrill that she was reopening the door. When she did, she pulled it wide, stepping to the side. 

“Please come in, Mr. Logan.” Though she looked at the floor, her face penitent, it didn’t sound like a request.

Slowly, as if afraid to make any sudden moves, Clyde entered the small room. In truth, her sudden invitation was a little frightening to  _ him.  _ He released his held breath when he heard the door click softly behind him.

Beyond the small entry he saw a sitting room with a sofa bed, turned down, but made up neatly. Off to the other side was a small kitchenette with a sliding glass door with a pleasant view of the river beyond. 

“Thank you, ma’am.” He said almost on instinct, and cleared his throat as she walked past him towards the kitchenette. She placed her hand on the back of a chair at the small dining table. Embarrassment radiated from her body in waves and even though it was her own doing, Clyde itched to console her.

As he watched, her face grew red and puffy. Her voice wavered when she said, “I was just about to sit down for a cup of tea, would you care to join me?” When he momentarily hesitated, she added, “Please Mr. Logan. I— I have lemonade.” 

Clyde leveled his gaze on her; she’d maybe behaved poorly but he remembered what Earl had said. She’d had no reason to expect any kindness from life. He set  _ Anne of Green Gables _ on the table. “Lemonade would be alright.”

She gestured for him to sit at her kitchen table, her cup of tea already sitting there with a slight wisp of steam coming off the surface. Within seconds it seemed she’d set a tall glass down in front of Clyde with trembling hands. 

“So you know Earl?” she asked quietly, taking her seat. “Then I suppose he told you… about me?” He flinched a little in response but she shook her head. “It’s alright, I’m used to it.” Her skin fingers traced the saucer of her teacup as Clyde took a sip of his drink. “About my family, and—”

“Yes, ma’am," he nodded quickly, not needing her to say it. Her family, her marriage, her life. She didn’t need to go through it all on his account.

“It’s not made me a good person, Mr. Logan,” she confessed. “I’m not one of those women made better through suffering.” Clyde didn’t see why she should be, but she sounded upset by it, so he held his tongue. She looked up at him. “I saw you playin’ yesterday, at the park.” 

“I remember,” he said, her arresting green eyes still bright in his memory. 

Those same lovely eyes continued to grow red and puffy but no tears fell. “Please forgive me. I made assumptions—because you looked so happy yesterday, playing—with your beautiful family.” A small noise of pain escaped her throat and she clenched a fist. “So I’d like to apologize for what I said just now. Assuming that because you’re happy  _ now, _ that you never experienced any suffering in your life.”

Clyde cocked his head at her. “You mean on account of my arm?” He lifted his prosthetic above the table before letting it fall into his lap. “Please don’t trouble yourself Ms. Rey,” he added, quite seriously. “Just ’cause you didn’t notice me right away.”

Rey shook her head, her voice a scratchy whisper as her eyes flicked across his face. “No, I noticed you alright—I mean—I always notice happy families." She took a deep breath and continued. “But I shouldn’t have been so rude just now and... I shouldn’t have been staring at you yesterday.”

“Now then, I didn’t mind  _ that,” _ Clyde joked, a split second before remembering he shouldn’t start flirting; feeling his cheeks flush, he quickly took another sip of lemonade. Earl had said Rey was a nice girl. If she’d never even considered leaving her miserable excuse for a husband after all he’d done to her, it was unlikely she’d care for Clyde’s piss-poor attempts at banter. 

Blinking rapidly, Rey gave him a small smile as she reached for the book, sliding it towards her as if grasping onto a lifeline. “I haven’t finished it yet— _ Anne of Green Gables— _ but I like it, so far…”

Relieved, Clyde latched onto the change in subject, and nodded to her in encouragement. To his delight, they conversed easily about their shared love of reading. Before he’d realized it, half an hour had passed, talking about other books they’d read and enjoyed, as well as  _ Anne. _

Much to his dismay, she’d never read some things he considered classics, like  _ The Three Musketeers _ or  _ The Count of Monte Cristo. _ Before he knew what was happening, he heard himself promising to stop by again soon to let her borrow some of his books, and, at her invitation, promising to sit for a spell to discuss them. 

He told himself he was just being a friend to a person who needed one. That it didn’t have anything to do with how the world seemed brighter when he could coax a smile from her berry-pink lips or how the memory of her long dark hair sliding over her shoulders could, hours later, when he lay sleepily in his big lonely bed, make him tremble with wondrous sort of longing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *bangs head on desk* They're. So. Freaking. Cute.


	4. A Misty Evening

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rey visits the Duck Tape and Clyde decides to take her up on her offer to discuss other books...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An exceptionally short chapter. Again, thank you for putting up with me. Also, if you saw the chapter count increase, no you didn't!

Late that Saturday afternoon, much to Clyde’s gratification, Ms. Rey came to the Duck Tape.

She sat with Ashley at a pub table along the far wall, her distractingly long legs dangling from the stool as she sipped her drink. The girls had vodka cranberries with wedges of lime—a drink Clyde had happily prepared knowing it was for Rey’s enjoyment. It was just a drink, a small thing, but the idea that he’d be contributing something of pleasure to her evening made his chest heat. 

She appeared to be in a rare good mood. She smiled easily, and every now and then, her laugh floated softly across the bar. The sound sparked an answering smile on his face, even if his back was turned, like when he stood at the taps, or even if he was talking to someone else at the register, cashing them out. It was like he sensed where she was at all times, an awareness of another person the like he’d never experienced before. He liked it.

He’d glanced over at her, taking a moment to admire her when he thought she wasn’t looking. Her long hair was piled on the back of her head in a ponytail that curved like an ocean wave falling down towards her long, pretty neck. He looked for a little too long though; her eyes popped wide when they met his; bashful, she turned away, smoothing the back of her hair, though it looked to be perfectly in place. He reminded himself for the millionth time  _ she was married  _ and his attentions were likely making her uncomfortable.

It wasn’t too much later that Mellie swung by, arriving right before dinner time; she’d called in a to-go order of burgers from the kitchen and waved greetings to all the Duck Tape regulars, giving Clyde a kiss on the cheek as she picked up the white paper bags. 

“You going to get off work early?” she asked Clyde as she crossed the bar. “Sadie was hoping you’d be there to kiss her goodnight. She’s got to get up early for church tomorrow mornin’.”

Clyde pursed his lips and scowled at Mellie; he knew Mellie’d be getting that child up early just to put curlers in her hair, not out of any particular respect for the Almighty, but he wouldn't interfere with the girls’ fun. 

He scratched the back of his head. “Sure will,” he said with a fond grin. “You tell that little munchkin to wait up for me.”

“She will, she’s been goin’ crazy, she showed me the dress you bought her Clyde, with the white patent leather shoes? With kitten heels? I swear someday, you’ll spoil that child.” 

As Mellie continued to lecture, he tuned her out, suddenly aware that the air in the room felt different. Darker. Sadder.

Over his shoulder, he saw Ashley cashing out—and the back of Rey's head as she strode out of the Duck Tape without a backward glance.

* * *

Clyde took off early from the Duck Tape to say goodnight to Sadie, and decided he had time to take Rey up on her offer for some friendly conversation about books, hoping it wasn’t too soon—or too late. It was only about nine. 

Since she’d left the Duck Tape before he’d got a chance to say goodnight, he wanted to rectify that omission. In her absence he’d been unable to think about anything but her magical laugh and how her smiles seemed to make the universe brighter. He’d stopped by the house to pick up his copy of  _ Count of Monte Cristo _ before heading out to see her. 

He could visit. For a minute. To lend her his book, ask if she’d liked the Duck Tape, and then say goodnight. Nothin’ wrong with that. Even momma would have approved.

It was a foggy evening as he drove through the tree-lined roads that led back towards Rey’s motel and he lost himself in his thoughts of her as the distance closed between them. 

But his smile soon left his face. As he walked up to the porch of Rey’s unit, everything seemed dark and quiet; perhaps Rey wasn’t home tonight. Following an instinct, he marched around to the back of the little bungalow, and halted. 

The sliding back door was partially open and the kitchenette was lit only by the full moon peeping through the wisps of cloud. Rey was seated, her arms crossed on the small table where they’d had their talk, resting her head. She was sobbing—weeping in agony—Clyde had rarely seen the like before. He faltered, dread filling him as he heard her choking on her tears, wailing softly into her forearms as her chest convulsed with sobs. He wished with all his heart to comfort her. To wrap his arms around her and hold her while she cried—but the same instincts that had led him to her warned him that Rey would never forgive him if she knew he’d seen her in despair. This display of justified emotion was so at odds with the proud, cold face she presented to the world. Who had more reason to cry than her? With her tragic past and trapped in a loveless marriage to a man with minimal consciousness and no ability to communicate? She likely had a hundred reasons to cry, reasons Clyde couldn’t even begin to guess at.

Even though they’d started out on the path towards friendship, it was too new, too fragile. She wasn’t his to comfort. So softly, he walked back to his truck, and went home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What can I say... There's more coming tomorrow! 
> 
> _House of Dreams_ fans will recognize this scene from the book -- then as now, it's a sad one. But it is not the end!


	5. A Catastrophe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A pleasant Sunday outing to the river ends abruptly when Rey finds herself in distress--can Clyde save the day?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Halfway there! Finally, a little bit of excitement for this sleepy fic... keep your eyes peeled for hot, heroic, alpha Clyde... I'm sure you can't miss him.

Sunday afternoon, Earl invited everyone out to the river for a picnic and trips upstream on his little old speedboat, with innertube rides for the kids. 

There was a large group of people, maybe twenty or so, gathered around a picnic table, an open cooler of beer and soda pop on the ground nearby. Kids ran around, playing in the water. Rey was there, seeming to enjoy herself, to Clyde’s satisfaction and relief. Her small smile was a blooming pink blossom and, in unguarded moments, her eyes glowed with her wit and laughter. He watched her for a while, quietly. She was so pretty, in her jean shorts and a plaid button up tied at the waist. Even though he wasn’t supposed to, he could have watched her forever. 

But eventually, Earl got him involved in the conversation. It was silly, but Clyde felt he spoke easier when he knew Rey was listening. Like she brought out the best of him, just by being close. They didn’t converse alone: it was never just the two of them, but Clyde stood nearby as she socialized, and she didn’t move away from him, either. 

After a spell, someone in the group mentioned taking a short hike up a nearby hill. There wasn’t much of a trail, but there was a path through the trees that led up to a viewpoint overlooking a bend in the river. Rey nodded her agreement and looked over her shoulder to Clyde, who hadn’t strayed more than ten feet from her all day. 

“Will you walk with us?” She asked shyly. It was bittersweet, that she thought he wouldn’t want to come along; she hadn’t yet realized he’d never be able to tell her no. 

As the mixed group of children and adults rambled up the hillside, Clyde lagged behind as Rey walked on ahead with Ashley. The two young women chatted quietly as a group of young kids, maybe seven or eight years of age, ran between them, hollering, animated by sugar and the freedom of the great outdoors. 

Some of the kids bumped into Rey and Ashley as they ran up the hill, heedless of where they were going and not paying attention to what they were doing, in that way that kids had. 

Ashley gave a loud laugh, shifting her hips to make room for the kids running past. “Little hellions,” she called after the two boys who had just barely missed crashing into her as they played on the grassy hillside. “Where are your mothers?” she laughed, tickling the ribs of one of the kids as they squealed and ran off. Ashley gave a loud sigh of exhaustion. “Kids can be such a pain.” 

“I’d give anything to be a mother, just for a day,” Rey said enviously, and kept walking up the hill. After a moment, her hands wiped quickly at her eyes, twice on each side and Clyde felt his throat squeeze up, an echo of her obvious sorrow. She was  _ crying. _

Clyde halted; he wasn’t sure if he’d been meant to hear that comment or see her tears. He didn’t want to be accidentally eavesdropping on a private conversation. Turning off the main path, he took a different route up the remainder of the hill, centering himself with a moment of privacy. He felt compassion for Rey. He did. But her words… about wanting children… had inspired thoughts of a  _ different _ sort. 

He paused, avoiding the rest of the group. He didn’t want to be talking to anyone right now, not while he was thinking inappropriate, unstoppable, lustful thoughts about giving Rey the children she seemed to want so bad. He knew just how he’d do it, too. He kicked half-heartedly at a nearby rock. 

Just one more thing her fool ass of a husband couldn’t have done right, he grumbled. Clyde pursed his lips. That man had truly left Rey all alone in the world, not even with a child to care for and provide her company. While Clyde did his best to remember his Bible lessons the way momma had taught him,he reckoned he was justified in harboring some righteous anger towards John Abrams, even if it did feel a lot like hatred. 

Up at the lookout point, a few people pointed out what they could see across the bank, enjoying the sunshine and each other’s company. Down the embankment, Earl’s boat trolled by, and he and his passengers waved to the group on the hill as the boat spun around to give one of the kids a ride on a large innertube attached to the boat by a vinyl rope. 

As Clyde approached, Rey stood on the edge of the embankment, looking across the river when she looked over her shoulder at him, her eyes frozen, jaw clenched. She shook her head pointedly and turned away from him, her message clear. She wanted to be alone, but more than that—she didn’t want  _ his _ particular company. Her hands were stuffed in her jeans pockets. She didn’t look back.

Discouraged, Clyde slowed his approach. He hated seeing Rey so despondent, but she’d made her feelings known. He was about to turn away when two of the younger kids, roughhousing on the ground, rolled into the back of Rey’s legs and she jolted forward—unable to get her balance—and began to slip. 

From the lip of the embankment, the ground fell away rather sharply as it plummeted towards the river—a long, steep slide covered with rocks, shrubs, and even some good-sized trees. And Rey was going to fall. Clyde moved. 

He bounded towards her, his heart in his throat, instantly frustrated with the distance between them and the fact that, because of his detour up the hill, he was approaching her from the  _ wrong side.  _ Any other man could have grabbed Rey with his left hand and pulled her to safety. But if he tried the same move, she’d still end up at the bottom of the hill, she’d just be holding his prosthetic when she landed. 

Unwilling to let that happen, and—for the first time since Iraq—not really caring what happened to his body, he swung his weight around, pushing Rey to safety with his right hand, as his momentum carried him off the edge. 

The ground met him with a slamming, thick  _ thud. _ Landing painfully on his left side, he slid and rolled, leaves and grass blinding him. He flipped over to see where he was going, but it wasn’t soon enough. A sycamore tree, wide around as he was, grew up from the bank; he was heading right towards it. Barely with time to breathe a sigh of relief that Rey was safe, the tree closed in on him, the day around him blinkered out, and everything was quiet. 

* * *

Clyde woke up in a dimly lit hospital room. He hadn’t even opened his eyes yet, but he knew where he was. The beeping and humming of the machines. The smell of excessive, antiseptic, inhuman levels of hygiene. It could only be a hospital. With a sigh of resignation, he peeped his eyes open. He was alone. 

_ Was Rey alright?  _

He was propped up, his left arm in a sling and covered in bandages. It throbbed with a dull ache. And he was thirsty. The door to his room was open and light shone through. He could see movement out there. Maybe one of the nurses would know about Rey. Grasping with his right hand he found the nurse’s call button and gave it a tap.

“Hey Clyde.” Sylvia’s friendly voice carried through the doorway as she pulled on a latex glove. “How you feeling?” 

“Been worse,” he grunted. He wanted to ask about Rey, but when Sylvia shot him one of her  _ looks _ he amended to, “but I been better too, I suppose.” She held a cup in front of his face and he obediently sipped water through the straw. 

Before he could say another word, she was running him through a series of questions to make sure he hadn’t bumped his noggin too hard on that sycamore. But he knew what month and year it was. He could rattle off his name, birthdate, and the alphabet. She told him that they weren’t too worried about concussion. They were more concerned about how his prosthetic had torn up his elbow and the potential for infection at his incision site. He’d been cleaned up good, with plenty of medicated bandages right below his elbow. They’d probably release him in the morning, with lots of instructions and some antibiotics but otherwise he was fine, no broken bones, just lacerations and contusions, better known as cuts and bruises. 

“Sorry no one’s here for ya, Clyde,” Sylvia hummed as she changed his dressing. “But it’s two in the morning, and they close the waiting room. I’ll text Jimmy though.” 

“You’re here Sylvia,” said Clyde, truly thankful for her no-nonsense, familiar face. 

“Yes, well, I’m paid to be,” she teased, before her face grew serious. “I pulled some strings so I could be on the floor tonight. But I can tell you’re wanting to ask something Clyde, so just ask it.” She tapped gently down on the last piece of bandage tape.

“Yes, well, Ms. Rey…” he trailed off. “Is she okay? I mean to say. She didn’t fall, did she?”

She smiled and patted his cheek. “You always were such a sweetheart, Clyde Logan. Yes, Ms. Rey is  _ just fine.”  _ She looked strangely proud. “You knocked her back. She didn’t take a tumble down the cliff like you did.”

He released a breath he didn’t know he was holding. “Oh. That’s good. That’s fine, then.” He pursed his lips in frustration that his words weren’t quite expressing the sudden lightness in his chest. She was safe. Rey was alright, and that’s all that mattered. 

“Don’t worry about that now,” said Sylvia. “The heavy-duty painkillers are still wearing off. We’ll get you on the high dose of Tylenol before you get out of here, I remember Jimmy said you didn’t like opioids, and I don’t blame you. Now get some sleep, okay?”

The next thing Clyde knew, the room was much brighter. Jimmy and Sylvia were standing in the far corner of the room talking. He croaked a good morning, and they came to help him sit up, Sylvia handing Jimmy the water cup before leaving to make her final round before her shift ended.

“Hey…” said Jimmy, still awkward after all these years anytime he had to be in a hospital. Clyde could tell he was itching to get him up and out of there. He figured that made sense. “So I hear you were the big hero out by the lake yesterday. Sorry I missed that.”

Clyde felt his face flush. “Nothing anyone wouldn’t have done—”

“Now don’t give me that,” Jimmy interrupted. “Ashley said you and her cousin been circling each other like hedgehogs all day, and that Rey refuses to talk about you, and changes the subject if your name gets brought up.”

Clyde’s face didn’t move. Rey’s disinterest was so evident, he wished Jimmy wouldn’t rub it in so hard. There was no reason Rey  _ should _ want to discuss him with her cousin. He stared obstinately at the far wall. 

“I think she likes you, Clyde,” Jimmy’s fists landed on his hips and Clyde winced in the face of Jimmy’s heart-wrenching error. “And I’m getting the feeling you like her too.”

Clyde didn't know how to respond to that, but Jimmy, belligerent and insightful as ever, kept poking at him until he had to say  _ something. _

“I’d like to get… closer to her,” Clyde finally admitted. “I like her—I admire her—” He cut himself off. Truth was, Rey had already slipped into his heart and he wanted to crawl right into hers. But that was impossible. “She’s married, Jimmy,” he muttered. “So it’s not like that. Not like hedgehogs. We talk about books, and—that’s it.” 

He remembered the baleful look of warning Rey had dropped on him right before she’d almost been knocked off the ledge. “Sometimes she looks at me as if she resents me,” he added, almost a confession. It was confusing. Part of him wanted to apologize to Rey, though he wasn’t sure exactly what for. Maybe for the unfairness of life. He could shoulder that burden, if she needed him to. Finally, he remembered leaving her alone to cry in the kitchenette on Saturday night. Had he done the right thing? So he had to say, “I’m not sure you could rightly call us friends.” 

Jimmy nodded, slowly. “I caught up with Earl last night. He told me Rey’s had a tough time of it.” He gestured widely. “Lived through some real tragedy—and it’s hard to really be friendly with someone when there’s a whole lot of their life they won’t speak of to you.”

Clyde wasn’t sure if Jimmy was making a point, or just an observation, but he was still too tired. His wits were too dull with the painkillers to parse it all out. The doctors arrived shortly thereafter and gave him his discharge papers. He was grateful to be all in one piece, physically. But he walked out of the hospital that morning, all bandaged up, hoping that Rey would be willing to endure another visit from him. ‘Cause if she wanted nothing to do with him? Then he might truly be broken beyond repair.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The huffing, circling [courtship behavior of hedgehogs](https://15minutesofgreen.com/huffing-hedgehogs/#:~:text=The%20huffing%20happens%20when%20two,for%20hoglets%20later%20this%20year) that Jimmy compares Rey and Clyde to is of course, a real thing. 
> 
> I honestly didn't mean to end today on another cliffhanger-- more Something Good & Beautiful coming at you every day this week! Thank you for the kudos & comments, they are life!


	6. Rey's Confession

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clyde visits Rey after he's discharged from the hospital. She has some things she needs to say.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We are slowly but surely working towards the place we want to be with these two. Just a little more. Thank you for tolerating my short chapters!

Monday afternoon, as the sun illuminated the hilltops in a burst of green, Clyde knocked on the door of bungalow 2B. He took a deep breath as Rey pulled it open and felt as if his heart was going to beat out of his chest. Her face was pressed into a wild contradiction of happy, tearful eyes and a mouth that was both smiling and not. 

His blood was rushing in his ears. Before he could figure out what was happening, Rey was pulling him into the bungalow, babbling profusely about how he'd saved her, how no one had  _ ever _ done anything like that for her before. 

Within minutes, they each had a book, and his hand was in hers as she led him outdoors. He finally felt like he could breathe. She was alright. And they were still friends. 

* * *

“Clyde,” said Rey abruptly. “Thank you for sitting here with me. Having company, even just reading, I—thank you.”

They’d been sitting outside for an hour or so on benches that were just up the bank from the river that flowed behind Rey’s motel. It was shady, and the breeze off the water was a kindness that lessened the otherwise oppressive, heavy air. The wildflowers gave a sweet scent to the air that Clyde had just noticed, when Rey slammed her book shut on her lap. He looked over at her curiously. 

“After you fell, I—you were so  _ still. _ Earl came up with the boat and a couple of the guys put you in, and Earl got you to the hospital. They said you were responsive, just real out of it.”

He huffed out a chuckle. “I don’t remember none of that.” 

“It was awful. _Last night_ was so awful,” she said, closing her fingers around some tall grass growing near where she sat. “I kept thinking the worst; you’d get an infection or be in so much terrible, lingering pain. You’ve been nothing but so kind to me and I’ve been such a hateful bitch—” 

Clyde pursed his lips. “I don’t mean to be contradictory, ma’am, but I don’t tolerate anyone speaking that way about a lady.”

“But it’s  _ true,” _ she insisted, wiping away an errant tear. “There have been times when I’ve hated you—”

He knew. He’d seen it in her eyes, but he didn’t want her to feel worse so he simply nodded. 

“—but no matter what I did, you’ve been so unfailingly kind to me.” She wiped away another tear.

“Well,” Clyde sighed, closing his book. “It was only now and then I thought you hated me. In between times…” he trailed off, thinking about Rey’s sunny smiles, rare and perfect. She was capable of so much love and he’d like nothing more than to be the object of it. But didn’t bear thinking about things that couldn’t be. “In between times, we were good friends,” he finished, somewhat limply.

“Yes,” Rey said, still looking desperately sad. “Yes, we were, but my  _ thoughts _ were there, spoiling the good times for me. I try to keep it down but sometimes it just bubbles up—I was sick with envy, Clyde. You have a happy home here in Madison, and a family, a good job, and time to read—everything I want and never could have. It didn’t seem fair—meeting someone like you, I had hoped life would be different, be better—but things weren’t meant to be and—oh, I’m so ashamed.” She started to cry.

Clyde wasn’t exactly sure what she meant by all that, but in his experience, folks didn’t often make sense when they were worked up about their feelings. He wanted nothing more than to comfort her; but he flexed his hand into a fist, pressing it into the ground.

“Nothin’ to be ashamed of—” 

“You fell, you were hurt, it was my fault, I thought you’d want nothing to do with me again—it would serve me right—and you, the first friend I made since I was a kid.”

“Surely that's not true,” Clyde said, feeling desperately unequal in the face of Rey’s powerful feelings. “You're a wonderful person. You must have so many people who… care about you.”

“No,” Rey shook her head resolutely. “I’ve pushed everyone away. Sometimes I think Ashley only puts up with me because I’m family, and it’s so dreadful, to have no one to—” she sniffled, trembling, and forced herself to take a deep breath. “Life is so  _ empty. _ There’s nothing worse than the emptiness.” She covered her eyes with one hand and gave a little sob.

Clyde didn’t know what to say. He wanted to touch her. He couldn’t touch her. If he touched her, he’d be lost. 

“You know that from the very first time I saw you,” she forced out the words, wiping her cheeks with her fingers. “I resented you. You looked so happy. Playing with your family. And it hurt me, to be faced with my own misery. With all the good things I’ve never had in my own life.” 

Clyde didn’t want to overstep, but it had to be said. “I think you’re—you’re wonderful, Ms. Rey. I can’t help believing that life has something good and beautiful waiting for you.”

“No,” Rey said dully, shaking her head. Her eyes were filled with a longing Clyde wished he could fulfill. “No, there isn’t any hope.” 

He took a deep breath, releasing it slowly. “I won’t try to change your mind,” he finally said, feeling this throat constrict painfully. “But I can promise. I’ll always care—and be your friend,” he added, whispering. “No matter what.”

She sniffled. “Even after I go back to Brooke County?” Her face spasmed in pain. “Is that a promise, Mr. Logan?”

He nodded once, firmly, his eyes welling with tears that he resolutely blinked back. Of course, she’d have to go home again. But in the meantime, he’d take every last second he could with her. “Yes, ma’am. That’s a promise.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If this was a movie or a tv show this is the part where I'd say, "we have a title!" really obnoxiously. We have a title!
> 
> Another scene that heavily relies on the drama of _House of Dreams_ for our poor Rey and Clyde. But now that Rey has unburdened herself, we'll see a different side of her.


	7. Clyde's Confession

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After Clyde and Rey spend the day together, Mellie makes Clyde face some uncomfortable truths.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We are really in the home stretch now, with only three chapters left! I can promise you this.... there's only one more short chapter! And then we get to the good stuff.

After her confession, Rey seemed like a changed woman. Clyde never saw anything of her prickly ways, or any bitter looks. She glowed with happiness, as if her tragic childhood never was. As if she weren’t still saddled to a man who never deserved her and could never appreciate her. Rey’s rich, serene nature was far more beautiful to Clyde than the curve of her hips, which he often would catch himself staring at when he didn’t otherwise occupy his mind. 

Her beauty—inside and out—cut right through to his soul. She still inhabited his dreams and consumed most of his waking thoughts. He couldn’t get enough of her, and he knew it was wrong but he just kept telling himself he only meant to think of her as a friend. Intentions were what mattered. 

They’d spent all the rest of Monday together reading and talking, and on Tuesday morning, they'd met at ten, going into the coffee shop to talk books, before heading down to the library, which turned into grabbing some lunch at a nearby sandwich place, before Rey met up with Ashley, sometime around three in the afternoon.

They’d talked about all sorts of topics. Rey loved flowers and gardening, a simple hobby that she said helped clear her mind. Clyde told her some of the best stories of his time tending bar, which made her laugh. And Rey longed to travel. She had a great desire to see Europe, and Clyde had been there a few times while he was in the army. She listened, enraptured, as if his bald descriptions of the German towns he’d seen during his stopovers were the greatest thing she'd ever heard. 

Thoughts of Rey were happily preoccupying his brain when later that evening Mellie stopped by to see how his arm was doing. She was happy to see the incision had stayed clean and his cuts had healed nicely. There were just a couple of large adhesive pads remaining on the upper part of his forearm. 

Mellie made her little chit-chat like she always did, keeping him in the loop with small town news. He'd been telling Mellie about his day, when she asked the question.

“So you like that Rey Abrams?” 

Clyde was silent. 

“You know what I mean, Clyde. You should see your face when you talk about her. I know you like her.”

“You don’t understand, Mellie,” he huffed, unexpectedly sad to be confronted with his weakness like this. By his own sister. But he knew Mellie. Knew she understood people, instinctively, like Clyde never could. And she knew him better than anyone. “I more than like her, I love her.” He released a ragged breath, almost angry now.  _ “Love her.” _

Even saying it out loud, it didn’t sound near enough to explain how he felt. He was shaking. And Mellie was very quiet.

“Well, did you tell her?” she finally asked.

“No—you don’t think I’d say something—she’s  _ married, _ Mellie. I  _ shouldn’t.  _ But I can’t help how I feel.”

“You sound dang miserable,” Mellie sympathized. “Does she… like you, too?”

Clyde shook his head. “No, ‘course not. She’s not free and she'd never break her vows, not even in thought. But if she were free—I think we could—that she could—” His brain was moving faster now, faster than his mouth could keep up. If she wasn’t married he could only tell Rey how he felt. If she knew, then maybe she could learn to care for him, too. He felt the truth of it in his bones, but the comfort of that thought was overwhelmed by stark, cutting regret. It was never going to happen. Rey had suffered enough without him dumping his feelings on her. 

Mellie made a noise of sympathy, and it set Clyde off again.

“It wouldn’t be so hard, if she were happy. But she isn’t. At all. I’d give anything to make her happy but I can’t do a single thing to help. Nothing. She’s married to—to that  _ snake. _ Who can do nothing, give her nothing,” he seethed, thinking of how Rey had cried over not even having a child to keep her company. He’d give her a dozen children. More, if she wanted them. “It’s making me crazy, Mellie. How am I supposed to go through life like this—knowing she’s out there, so unhappy—and there’s nothing I can do about it?” 

“Oh, Clyde.” Mellie sniffled. “It hurts to hear you go on like that.”

“She’s the most beautiful person I’ve ever met,” Clyde went on, hurting himself too and wallowing in the agony. He realized then that the worst thing the Logan family curse had taken from him wasn’t his hand. The curse had taken Rey, and he’d rather have her. “And I’m not sorry I met her. Even though she’s going away soon, and I’ll never see her again. It would be worse to never have known her.” Burning, searing pain squeezed his ribs. “I’ll love her forever,” he mumbled. “And she’ll never know.”

* * *

In Clyde’s dream that night, Rey stood waist-deep in the river, washing her hair. Water ran down her face, her neck, her breasts, which were perfectly round and freckled with pebbled pink nipples. She was so beautiful, it hurt. 

“What are you doing here?” she asked. She looked pale and cold. She should get out of the water. 

He stepped forward, the water lapping at his ankles. “What’s the trouble, Rey?” 

“I have to leave,” she answered, tears running down to her throat as Clyde approached, his legs heavy as the water saturated his jeans, slowing his movements.

“Don’t cry,” Clyde begged miserably, his face betraying the devastation in his gut. “Haven’t we been happy—we’ve been friends—” But even as he said the words, his hands came up, cupped her breasts and she moaned, her breath hot on his face. His thumbs circled her soft skin; she fit so perfectly in his hands, it made his heart ache. His lips were a hair’s breadth from hers when— 

“Goodbye, Mr. Logan.” Rey stood next to her car, holding a suitcase. Her words were cold and indifferent; the old Rey. 

_ “Please don’t go.”  _

He blinked his eyes open, feeling a tear slide down his temple and into his hair. He wasn’t sure he could go on like this. Being around Rey, but unable to be with her—it was torture. But he wasn’t sure how he could stop. 

In fact, he knew he wouldn't.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh Clyde, you and your dreams. If only there was some way they could come true! If only!


	8. The Delights of Anticipation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Both feeling blue about the impending end of her visit to Boone County, Rey and Clyde spend the evening reading _Anne of Green Gables_ together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Click [here for the Something Good and Beautiful EP ](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/0VVDRTG4atqHSktmzu6FmZ?si=Qh9C8RloSlqMORNoRM8Rcg&utm_source=copy-link) on Spotify! Seven sweet songs for Clyde & Rey that I hope you enjoy!

The next evening found him back in bungalow 2B. The night was unseasonably chilly. Instead of sitting on the porch, or in the yard as they had most days, they each took a side of the small sofa in the bungalow. Clyde tried not to think too hard about how this sofa, when turned down, was where Rey slept each night. She had featured so prominently in his dreams the past week. Was he ever in hers? He doubted it. Rey was loyal and true and would never cheat on her husband, not even with a stray thought. And to assume she thought of him _that way_ was too conceited to be believed, even if he did feel sometimes like her eyes lingered on his face longer than was strictly necessary. 

She was turned towards him, one knee tucked under as she leaned against the back of the couch. She played with the hem of her sundress, which rode up a little on her thigh. Almost nervously, she pushed it back down. He watched her slender little fingers tangle in the fabric, transfixed by the smooth golden skin on the side of her knee. But her book lay unopened in her lap. 

“I was happy this week, Clyde, happier than I ever was in my life.” She bit her lip as if she were holding back more words. “It’s been a lovely visit. So, thank you.” 

“You haven’t yet finished _Anne of Green Gables?”_ asked Clyde, not ready to think about her visit coming to an end. But of course, it would. She’d go back to Brooke County, to her lonely life caring for her invalid husband, who’d never loved her and only wanted to possess her. He couldn’t handle thinking about all that so he fell back on what felt safe—talking about the book. 

She gave a small sniffle. “Almost done. I’m up to the last chapter, but I’m reading so slowly now, it’s like I don’t want it to end, I—” Her lips pressed into a tiny, desperate smile.

“Here,” he murmured, taking the book from her lap and flipping it around in his hand. “Let me.”

Nodding, Rey settled into the couch, turning on her side, her knees tucked towards her stomach, her head laying down to rest on the top of the cushions. Her eyes were bright as she watched him lick his lips and begin reading. 

_“What a girl you were for making mistakes in them days, Anne.”_ Clyde read. _“You were always getting into scrapes. I did use to think you were possessed. Do you mind the time you dyed your hair?”_

Clyde was gratified to hear Rey chuckle. Steadily, he continued to read. 

As the book neared its end, Clyde lay his head on the back of the sofa, his voice hardly a whisper. Rey’s head was very still on the back of the sofa; she breathed evenly and deep. He blinked slowly a few times as Anne mulled over the nature of sacrifice, and as Gilbert took her hand and promised to be her good friend. Resting his eyes for a spell, Clyde felt peaceful and happy. He’d finish the last few paragraphs in a minute. _Anne_ wasn’t going anywhere.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes, when you love someone, you make silly decisions. This chapter is a short nod to the many ways love drains our brain cells until there's only one left between you.


	9. The Truth Makes Free

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clyde wakes up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally a chapter where I can say, "there is nothing quite like this in _House of Dreams_." 
> 
> Content / Trigger Warning: in this chapter, Rey makes a negative comment about her past sexual encounters, indicating they were painful, and she blames her body's limitations. If you'd prefer to skip or skim, it begins when Clyde asks Rey if they need to slow down, and ends a few paragraphs later, at the section break.
> 
> Enjoy!

The sun was in Clyde’s eyes as he slowly blinked himself awake from another warm and delicious dream. Rey had come out of a warm bath and immediately snuggled up to him, resting her cheek and her hands on his chest, her hair tickling his lips. He’d kissed her forehead and she’d let out a little moan that shot straight to his cock. The painful strain of his morning wood against his jeans was what woke him up—and he blinked, unsure if he was still in his dream—or not. 

His upper arm was around the back of the sofa. Rey’s head was nestled in the crook of his elbow and his forearm was behind her neck, his hand resting on her shoulder. And his other arm—he drew in a shuddering, unsteady breath. His other arm—he still wasn’t wearing his prosthetic, because his other arm—was _between Rey’s legs._

He could feel the warmth, the softness of her thighs against his rough skin and it felt so good, like the warmest, most intimate hug. Sleeping, she gave a little sigh and shifted her hips, rubbing _herself_ against him and his nostrils flared. _Oh. Oh no._ Rey didn’t realize what she was doing right now. She’d be horrified if she found out. So, without her knowing, he needed to extricate himself from exactly the place on earth he most wanted to be. 

Her hands were tucked up near her sweet face and he felt her fingers clench on his bicep as she shifted again, her core dragging up his forearm, gaining ground, eliminating the progress he’d made in his attempted retreat. Her _cunt,_ he couldn’t help but gasp in wonder—he was touching her cunt. He could feel dampness now, the warm wet of her panties against his skin and he took a steadying breath in an attempt to slide away from her but the motion just made her groan again, and groan _louder._ Her eyelids fluttered, lost in a dream. Clyde was lost too, in a different and much more painful way—he was fighting both the needs of his body and the instinctive actions of hers. 

Pulling at Rey’s shoulder to turn her, Clyde hoped perhaps her legs would fall open. He could easily remove his arm and put an end to this torture before Rey realized they’d unintentionally touched, or woke up thinking he’d touched her without her consent. As he shifted away from her, however, her hand slipped from its perch on the back of the couch and landed on his thigh. He moaned a little, through his teeth, but it was the involuntary, reactionary squeeze of his hand on her shoulder that had Rey’s eyes blinking awake to see Clyde’s arm around her back, her dress around her hips, and his arm between her legs.

With a little squeal, Rey pushed back, sitting up as Clyde pulled away, retreating to his side of the sofa. With a whirl of fabric, Rey stood and faced him, distraught. He didn’t know what to say to comfort her. He knew he needed to apologize. But he was still gathering his words when Rey beat him to the punch. 

“Oh, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” Rey covered her cheeks with her hands. “Oh, I kept you here. You need to be getting back to your family. That beautiful little girl. Oh, Clyde,” Rey sounded close to tears. “Please know, I’d never disrespect you or… or Mrs. Logan.”

There was a moment’s silence.

“Who?” Clyde knew he wasn’t the smartest man. He woke up slow, and wasn’t capable of much thinking before he had a sip of coffee or a bite of bacon. And waking up tangled with Rey had been doubly discombobulating. But he knew he wasn’t forgetting a _wife._ “Begging your pardon, Rey. But there’s no Mrs. Clyde Logan.” 

He could feel his cheeks heat as she stared at him. He was still working on deflating his morning chubby but his legs were still warm from where Rey had snuggled against them and his arousal persisted. He wished he could say his blush was from shame. She was a married woman and he was a creep whose heart and body didn’t care she was married; even now, he wanted her something powerful. 

“But Clyde, I saw you—playing in the park across from the coffee shop. With that pretty woman—your wife.” She said the word as if it was a dagger in her heart. “She came into the Duck Tape and you talked about spoiling your daughter—that darling girl, with the curly pigtails—” 

Standing, Clyde cocked his head to the side. “Sadie? But Sadie’s Jimmy’s girl. My niece. And we were out at the park that day with Mellie—” He blinked at Rey. “My sister.” 

Rey stood very still, her eyes flicking over his face as his heartbeat thundered in his ears. _She’d thought he was spoken for?_ He swallowed and licked his lips, knowing he should leave. But his feet refused to move. 

“I’m the one who owes _you_ an apology Rey—ma’am—Mrs. Abrams,” he spluttered, leaning forward, trying to hide the vulgar bulge in his jeans from her view. “I know you’re in a difficult spot, but you’re an honorable woman. I’d never disregard anyone’s marriage vows, and—” 

Rey’s big hazel eyes were shiny as she gaped at him. “Clyde,” she interrupted, her voice soft and wavering. She took a step forward. “Clyde, I’m not married.” She looked stunned, delirious. “I’m a widow. That motherfucker’s been dead for almost a year now.”

The next few moments were a blur. 

* * *

Rey’s lips crashed into his as she leapt into his arms, her legs wrapped around his waist as she clung to his shoulders, peppering his face with kisses. He juggled her body easily, his hand under her dress, squeezing the soft skin of her ass, pulling her close, while his left arm circled her waist. When she dropped a kiss on his lips, he captured her soft ones in return, invading her mouth with his tongue, desperate, nearly _sloppy_ as her hands pulled on his neck, keeping his face close to hers.

“Please, Clyde,” she was begging between kisses, little whines in his ear. “Please tell me you’ve felt this too, I’ve never wanted _anything_ like I’ve wanted you this past week—” and she ground her center against his stomach. “I thought I would die from needing you—and then not having you—oh! And now—”

He nodded into her neck, where he’d been nipping and licking at her throat, inhaling the sweet scent of her hair. “Anything you want, Rey,” he grunted, knowing he was getting carried away. “I’m yours. Anything you want, ever—” 

Still holding on tight, Clyde knelt next to the sofa, laying Rey down. His hand squeezed her ass, her thigh; she groaned, the sound of her desire channeled into his mouth like the sweetest music. Kissing her face, then her neck, he spread her legs, one up against the back of the couch, the other bent, foot resting on the floor. His arm pressed the flushed skin of her ribs and trailed down her leg as he knelt between her knees. Leaning over her, his fingers toyed with the edge of her panties as she wriggled her arms through the sleeves of her sundress. 

“You are _beautiful,”_ he whispered against her skin as she revealed it to him, the dress now bunched around her waist exposing her breasts as he growled, kissing his way across her collarbones and down. With a shudder, he sucked her nipples into his mouth, one after the other, wishing he could just swallow her whole, not wanting to have his lips off of any part of her body for even a minute. “You’ve such fine little tits.”

“Please, please, please,” she was begging, for what exactly, he couldn't righly tell. Her hands were on his shoulders, pulling ineffectually at his old Allman Brothers t-shirt, before moving to card through his hair; he nibbled at the skin on the underside of her breasts as his right hand sank closer to her center. He could hardly believe she was allowing these liberties—he felt overwhelmed with possibilities—she spread open so beautifully before him.

“Rey, darlin’,” Clyde panted into the valley between her tits, his lips catching on her skin. She gasped as his fingers curled under the waistband of her underwear, his fingernails lightly scratching against the short, soft curls between her thighs. “May I?”

“Sweet Jesus, yes,” Rey choked out between whimpers, wriggling her hips, one hand coming down to help Clyde get the panties over her ass and down her legs. “Please don’t feel like you need to be a gentleman—” 

She cut off with a shriek as Clyde sank his face into her pussy, her lips sliding open for his tongue as he buried himself in her heat. Her legs still warm from sleep, Clyde crossed his left arm over her belly to hold her down and keep her thrashing to a minimum. 

Rey was—in a word—responsive. To his unending delight, she seemed unable to help herself, spreading her legs, bending her knees, and rocking her core into Clyde’s face as she wailed out her pleasure on the couch. When he slipped a finger inside her, his lips sucking on the firm knot of her clit, she arched her back and sobbed, throwing one arm over her eyes as she cried. 

“It’s been so long since anyone— _Clyde—oh!”_

“Look at me, Rey,” he growled between licks. _“Look at me._ All you’ll see is a man dedicated to ya—” he sucked on her clit again, flicking it with his tongue, sliding it gently between his teeth; she was still flat on her back. “Rey…” he warned, and with a nervous swallow, she pulled her elbows down and back to prop herself up so she could watch him work. Humming his pleasure he rewarded her with a rough suck and a second finger. She squeezed her eyes for a moment shut before she remembered to keep watching. Transformed by pleasure, she babbled nonsense words, full of praise and adoration and— 

_“Clyde—”_ his name was a long, straining wail from deep in her throat. Her cunt began to shake around his fingers as he pistoned them within her pussy, curling them to press on the inside back of her channel with relentless, military precision.

For a long glorious minute, her orgasm continued to vibrate her body around his hand as she writhed and keened, her heated skin sliding against his arms. He was overwhelmed by the thought that he’d made her feel good, _he’d done that_ _for her_. For his Rey. 

He had just begun to slowly slip his fingers from her cunt when a loud _bang, bang, bang,_ rattled the wall behind the sofa. Rey flinched as an annoyed male voice yelled, “Hey! Keep it down over there!” Clyde pressed his smile into the crease of Rey’s thigh. 

She giggled, falling back and clapping her hands to her cheeks in embarrassment as Clyde yelled back, _“Mind your business,”_ from between her legs. When no answer appeared forthcoming from the occupant of the neighboring bungalow, Clyde adjusted himself and slid up on the couch next to Rey. She was a vision with hair askew, chest flushed, tits bouncing as she attempted to catch her breath. He pulled her into his arms. 

“As much as I’d like to continue what we started,” he murmured as Rey began stroking his hair, kissing his face, and sliding her legs over his. “It is—it is evident that—that my place—” He stopped talking to kiss her, and she made a hungry noise when she tasted herself on his tongue. He let her lick at him, holding her close as he ran his fingers through her hair, just as he’d dreamed of doing from the first moment he’d seen her. “My place,” he rasped, when his tongue was momentarily free, “is a little more secluded, and—” 

“And I suppose you have something a little more comfortable than a pull-out sofa bed for a girl to lie on?” She traced her finger down his nose and tapped the tip.

He nodded and—playfully—caught her finger between his teeth.

* * *

The idea of Rey in his bed set him on fire. 

His eyes never left her for a moment as he made his way towards the door, while the lovely subject of his fevered thoughts dashed around the bungalow, throwing clothes and toiletries into a bag before locking the door behind her with a shaking hand. She gave a little whoop as Clyde threw her over his shoulder and bounded towards his truck, tossing her into the cab and hopping in after her. He kissed his way up her body, her legs and pussy still bare under her dress. He hoped she hadn’t packed _any_ panties.

He also hoped having his brain on autopilot would be sufficient to drive the truck back home because with Rey on the bench next to him, even he had to admit, he was _not_ focused on the road. Not with her hand on his thigh, squeezing with anticipation. 

It was still early in the morning—not even seven—and the roads through Madison were blessedly clear. In between kisses, Rey texted Ashley that her plans for the day had abruptly altered and she’d be spending the day at Clyde Logan’s place—and then turned the phone off when it started to ring. 

Clyde’s heart was in his throat as he took the final turn onto his three acres of tree-lined property, down his long driveway towards his little house, a mid-century rancher with a cabin-like exterior, right on the river, updated with all the modern conveniences heist money could buy. Most crucially, he had a king sized bed with a homemade comforter he was sure would look perfect under Rey’s naked body.

When the truck was finally parked, he didn’t allow himself to think, or to start fretting about the curse, or second-guessing the future. He knew what Rey needed and there was nothing that would stop him from making sure she got it.

He carried Rey into the house and straight to the bedroom. This time, her dress came all the way off, but before he could feast on her delicious, wet pussy again she wriggled her hands under his shirt and down his shorts, begging him to let her see him, to get skin to skin. 

Her trembling hands undid the button on his jeans and pushed them down his legs. As he kicked them off, along with his underwear, he turned back to Rey. The oddest look broke over her face, a mix of trepidation and dismay. 

“What is it, darlin’?” He brushed her long dark hair behind her neck. “Do we need to slow down, or—”

“No! No,” Rey gulped, her eyes fixed on Clyde’s middle. “It’s just. It’s just I—” She clapped her hands to his chest, her eyes filling with tears. “It’s just, you might not… _fit.”_

When he furrowed his brow, she continued on, her body shuddering with embarrassment and regret. “It’s been a number of years, and you’re… twice as big as John was. At least twice as long and so much thicker—” 

He took a deep breath as if to interject, but he bit his tongue and let her keep talking. 

“And he never was able to… get it in… comfortably,” she whispered. “There’s probably something wrong with me, Clyde, an—”

But he’d heard enough, he wanted to dispel her doubts and never hear that other man’s name again, especially in his bed. He cut her off with a kiss. “We won’t do anything that makes you uncomfortable. But I believe we’ll be fine, darlin’.”

“We will?” Anticipation and hope colored her every word; Clyde was more in love than ever.

* * *

Three fingers deep in Rey's cunt, Clyde was sure he was as close to heaven as he was ever going to get, even with his neglected cock throbbing painfully between his legs. 

She was lying face down on his bed, legs spread wide, taking deep breaths, dissipating every knot of stress and anxiety from her body. He had kissed his way down her spine—all the way—and was going slow, making liberal use of the lube he’d fortunately had in his bedside table, scissoring his fingers inside her, feeling her snug walls stretch around him as she made little mewls of pleasure. With steady strokes, her spongy flesh made space, wetness pooled between her thighs, and she accommodated his hand like a dream, and he told her so.

“You’re perfect, Rey.” He wanted her completely relaxed, her body passive and pliant.

“You have me so full.” Her voice was steeped with a leisurely, sleepy pleasure. “But Clyde, I want more—please—I want _you.”_

Pulling his fingers from her body, he leaned forward and grabbed a condom he’d had stashed in with the lube. As he tore the packet open with his teeth, Rey rolled to her back and gave the wrapper a sad little smirk as he rolled it onto his cock. 

“I’m clean,” she said, a little embarrassed. “But I should let you know, I—well—I’m not on any sort of birth control—I just never dreamed I’d meet someone who—”

She cut off with a gasp as he nudged his cockhead past her folds, resting his thumb on her clit. Her body took him like a dream. With every roll of his hips he sank deeper into her and her spine curled, her mouth falling open in a gasp of wonderment. He slid his arm underneath her as his mind went blank, her clit gently pinched between his forefinger and his thumb.

Completely lost to each other, Clyde vigorously fucked into Rey’s willing pussy as she whimpered and writhed beneath him. He eagerly wished to please her and was gratified to find their bodies so harmoniously situated. 

She was so precious and perfect; he’d never tire of telling her so. Perversely thankful for both the week’s worth of wet dreams and the condom for sustaining his stamina, he found the proper angle for reaching her pleasure, and chased it with every rigorous thrust. When it truly seemed as if she couldn’t take any more, when her screams became silent and her cunt and her fingers clamped around him, encouraging his release, he pounded into her with a growl and gave her his heat and his heart. He gave her everything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to Kore & Lexi for looking everything over for me! 💗


	10. The Bend in the Road

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clyde and Rey are finally together. They spend the day at Clyde's place getting to know each other biblically.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for hanging in there for this little marathon! Thank you again to meeda for the prompt and to Lala for running this amazing exchange!

Clyde woke up, just after noon, with Rey, a little spoon in his arms. Nothing had _ever_ felt so right, he was sure. He kissed her shoulder and she hummed her hello.

“How’re you feeling?” He squeezed her hip as she shifted onto her back to gaze up at him.

“Wonderful.” Her voice was a sigh, and her fingers came up to stroke his cheek, lingering on his jawline. “Don’t think I can move, but I feel wonderful.”

Clyde kissed Rey’s palm. “I don’t have a problem with you never moving from this spot.” She giggled, but he hoped she knew how serious he was. 

“Ah, Clyde,” Rey sighed, her thumb moving over his chin, scratching at the hair there before moving to swipe gently at his lower lip. “I'll never forget the first time I got a good look at your face. These lovely full lips, _oh._ It looked like you ate something you were allergic to. I couldn’t tear my eyes away.”

Clyde chuckled, her words reminding him he needed to make Rey something to eat since they’d skipped breakfast. But before he could offer, she slid her arms up and around his neck, kissing him, then mumbling, so soft like it was just to herself, “I only wish you were allergic to latex.”

He brought her off twice with his hand while he considered her words, and then bundled her into the shower with a promise of lunch. He needed to make sure Rey was asking what he hoped she was asking. ‘Cause if she was, well, he’d have to give her the right answer.

* * *

The remainder of the day was spent in bed, napping, kissing, learning each other’s bodies in a slow and tender way. There were too many moments to choose from to pick a favorite, Clyde thought as he rambled outside to start up his grill to make some dinner. Was it when Rey had ridden him for the first time, laughing with electric joy as she took control of her own orgasm? Or was it when, after waking up from a nap, they'd recreated their morning embrace, with Clyde’s arm between her legs, Rey grinding down to find her pleasure? 

As the grill heated up, Clyde stoked a small fire in his fire pit down on the riverbank. He had two adirondack chairs on either side of the pit and he scowled at them, before dragging one closer to the other, so the arms touched. That was better. 

Back in the house, he was surprised to find Rey busy in the kitchen. Pleasingly, she’d made herself right at home, and was mixing a bowl full of milk, eggs, and sugar. 

He slid his arm around her middle and rested his chin heavily on the top of her head to make her laugh. “What’cha makin’ there?”

She wriggled her ass playfully into him. “Some vanilla pudding with berries for dessert,” she replied matter-of-factly. “I saw you had some strawberries in there that looked ready to eat and—” her hands stopped stirring, the wooden spoon rattling against the bowl. “I—I’m so sorry, I should have asked.” She sounded mortified, and Clyde pulled her around to face him as she chattered out an unnecessary apology.

Rey’s brain produced words so much faster than his ever could, but he could stop her worries with a kiss, so that's what he did. 

“None of that,” he said, giving her hair a little tug when he pulled away. “What’s mine is yours, alright? Don’t you worry about a thing, darlin’.” He stared down at her until she nodded, eyes bleary but happy. Not happy enough. He needed to make her laugh. 

“Now finish up here in the kitchen, woman,” he announced, turning her back towards the counter and giving her cute butt a little swat. “A man needs something sweet after dinner—”

 _“Oh!”_ Rey cried in mock outrage. “I see how it is now, Mr. Logan.” And she laughed—the loveliest music Clyde had ever heard—as he rounded back on her, tickling her neck with his goatee. “Lure me here and then keep me in the kitchen, you only want me for my—”

“Sugar, mmm, that’s right,” he interrupted. “You’re my sugar, and I want you every night from here on out.” In response, she pulled his shirt off, right there, and he hoisted her up on the counter, snuggling up between her legs.

Dinner was delayed another hour or so, but at least, Clyde noted, the pudding had time to set. 

* * *

They did make it out to the adirondacks before sunset to enjoy some steak and grilled vegetables before Rey handed Clyde a bowl of the homemade pudding topped with slices of strawberry.

He enjoyed the dessert so much, he didn't even look up from his bowl while he ate, pausing only to compliment Rey between large bites.

“I’m glad you liked it,” her voice was shy, but carried a flirtatious note that had him looking over at her right quick.

She sat in the adirondack, smirking like the cat that caught the canary, wearing a titillating deep red blouse that hung off her shoulders, clinging to her curves in the sultry summer air; he liked how she looked in red. But he was also fairly partial towards her little denim skirt; one of Rey’s legs was tucked under her body, the other extended towards him, slender and smooth. She held her cup in one hand and her spoon in the other—a spoon which, at this very moment was deep in her mouth. She flipped the spoon over, her tongue pulling the dessert from the rounded utensil as she slowly dragged it out over her lower lip, having licked it clean. 

“Ms. Rey,” Clyde said, adjusting himself on the seat. “The way you’re enjoying your dessert might cause a man to forget his manners, and—”

“I was hoping you might,” she replied, breathy and needy. She set her food aside and placed her hand on Clyde’s knee, pulling herself towards his lap. But he was moving towards her, too, and in their haste to reach each other they were off-balance. The ground under the adirondacks was soft and wet from the afternoon rain and Rey slipped, gravity taking her down, and Clyde dropped with her. 

They landed on their sides in the muddy grass with a soft _squelch._

Rey gasped in shock before laughing, wiping droplets of dirty water from Clyde's forehead. “I just can’t seem to stay upright around you, Clyde,” she groaned, levering up on one elbow to stand. 

Happy where he was, Clyde just watched as Rey slipped again, this time catching herself on her hands and knees, leaving her pretty little ass up in the air. One of her knees slid sideways in the grass, spreading her legs enticingly. She squeaked in surprise, and he could see she wasn't wearing underwear. Rey moaned as Clyde pulled her other thigh to the side and got a good look at her cunt, flush and shining with her arousal, and he’d had just about enough.

Rolling to his knees, he wiped his hand on a clean part of his jeans before pulling open the button so his cock fell free. Rey wasn't the only one who'd foregone underwear that evening. Hooking his left arm around Rey’s waist, he dragged her to him through the mud as she squirmed, laughing playfully. 

He pushed up at her jean skirt as his cock poked at her folds. “No panties, sugar?” he huffed, already lightheaded as his blood rushed south.

“So tender, _ah!”_ Her clenched fingers disappeared under the muddy grass as Clyde circled her hole with the tip of his cock. She ground back, seeking completion, and Clyde slid his length through her folds before pulling back with a growl. 

“Please, Clyde, _please,”_ she lowered her half dirty face close to the ground, the better to push her pussy up at him. “You know I want—”

He grunted, fighting the urge to drench Rey in his cum, to saturate her body with his seed so that she’d never not be pregnant, if that's what she wanted.

“You just wait, Rey,” he warned, giving her pert cheek a little spank, leaving a little smear of dirt behind. “I know what you want. And I know I’m gonna be the one who’s gonna give you those babies.” He pulled open another condom and rolled it on as Rey groaned, in anticipation or frustration, he really couldn’t tell.

“I know you will,” she whined, pushing back onto his sheathed cock, her knees shifting in the wet grass as he sank into her, his dirty jeans smearing mud on the back of her creamy thighs. He ignored it and focused on making quick, powerful thrusts as Rey babbled. “I dreamed about us—together—you fillin’ me up—makin’ a baby—”

He had to let her know that he was right there with her. He leaned to hiss in her ear. “You don’t think I’ve dreamed about you drenched in my spend? Belly curved by my baby, breasts heavy with milk? I want that, do you want that, sugar?”

“Yes, Clyde, I want that,” Rey moaned. “I want it so bad. You promise—?”

“You’re gonna make me a daddy, Rey,” he announced, voice firm. He reared back. “You’re gonna be my perfect, happy little momma.” His thrusts were pounding, relentless, and Rey nodded wildly, sobbing her agreement.

“Oh, I will, I will,” she promised, tears rolling down her mud-streaked face, completely undone by his words.

“Pupped up, so the whole world knows you’re mine.”

“Yes—”

“You’ll have no more troubles, Rey. I’ll keep you full. All the time.”

_“Yes, Clyde—”_

“‘Till your insides don’t feel right unless part of me’s in there with ya.”

 _“Oh my god,”_ Rey bawled, her arms shaking with the strain of keeping upright and out of the mud with him splitting her pussy open, his hips rocketing into her backside, his skin smacking against hers, leaving it bright pink.

Clyde’s voice was a hungry rumble. “I just need you to wait a bit, little momma. I need you all to myself for a spell. Just for a bit. I’ll make an honest woman of ya. Then I’ll heap babies on you, Rey. All you want. You’ll never be alone again. That’s a promise.”

Rey was chanting. “Yes, Clyde—Yes, Clyde—” on repeat as he drove between her legs with all the force he could muster, considering his knees were slipping and sunk in the wet earth. Feeling his climax approach, he gave himself over to the moment—they were together, fucking under the open sky—and he took visceral pride in pleasuring and providing for this woman. _Now and always,_ he silently promised. 

Hunched over her back, holding her close, it was easy to tell when it happened—Rey convulsed in shock and Clyde’s breath left his body as he nearly doubled over with pleasure. Rey’s soft warmth unmistakably caressed his bare cock—the condom had ripped.

As Clyde stuttered, overwhelmed by the sensation of _her,_ Rey came with a shout, her cunt clutching him as she quivered, her body begging for his cum even though Rey herself seemed beyond words as her hands slapped at the muddy ground. 

With a brutal groan as his belly tightened up, Clyde pulled out, tossed the condom aside, and proceeded to paint Rey’s mud-filthy ass and legs with a sticky load of cum _that never seemed to end._

But end, it did. When the staggering pleasure had passed, and he’d blinked away the stars in his eyes, Rey was looking over her shoulder at him, flushed and giggling. “Everything alright back there?” 

“Hmm,” he said, observing with pride how her backside was red from friction, smudged with mud and soaked in spunk. He pinched her gently, where her ass met her thigh. “Never better, little momma.”

No point in trying to clean off, everything they were wearing was soiled, ruined, a lost cause. Exactly the opposite of how he felt on the inside. With effort, Clyde pulled Rey back into his arms and bridal carried her into the river. 

“Don’t you dare, Clyde Logan! You wouldn’t dare—” was all Rey managed before he’d tossed them both into the water, only about four feet deep with a smooth floor of gravel beneath them. 

Laughing, she allowed him to wash her legs and her clothes. But Clyde was silent, and focused on his work, looking wherever he touched. His hands brushed against her skin with reverence, full of promise. Tears pricked her eyes as he gently lowered her into the water and wiped away the dirt from her face, and then her hair. 

“You look so serious,” she whispered, once he was done and they stood together under the newly-risen moon, water running down their bodies, clothing soaked but unmuddied. Steam curled around them as water from their sodden clothing evaporated in the humidity. 

He ran his hand down her cheek, squeezing her shoulder before palming her breast. “For some reason,” he forced out, looking down at his hand, as his thumb circled her nipple, hard and poking through her soaked blouse. “I dreamed of you like this. In the water.” He inhaled sharply, looking into her eyes. “I dreamed of you that first day we met, darlin’. I fell in love with you that day.”

Rey beamed. “Clyde, I—”

“Now, don’t say anything rash. As much as I want to hear it—you should know you're looking at a man with a criminal record, a family curse, and no other ambition in life but to see you smile. But if you’ll stay—with me—I promise I’ll, I’ll—”

Covering his lips with her fingertips, Rey whispered in his ear, tender and trembling. When he smiled against her cheek, she pulled him into her arms; it was right where he belonged. Clyde took Rey’s lips with a deep and hopeful kiss as the moonlit water swirled around them, washing them clean, taking their troubles downriver. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please let me know what you think? I am open to constructive criticism. Additionally, if there are any tags needed that I didn't have already, please let me know! Thank you for reading!

**Author's Note:**

> Did I miss any tags? Would you just like to chat about Rey, Clyde, or the Green Gables-verse? Come say hi on twitter, I'm [@spoonfulofsalad](https://www.twitter.com/spoonfulofsalad)!


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